enlaces

In lieu of an actual blog post (it's one of those days) here's some links to Levi's photos and a few articles I've written for our school's website. Enjoy.

Tai Rom Yen National Park
Chiaya
Weird Surat
Levi's Flickr Albums

rezar

Last weekend, Levi and I dropped a rather lare sum of money partying on a tourist island, so for this holiday weekend we were determined to keep it cheap. Levi took a look at a map and led the way to Chaiya, a town about an hour northwest from Surat. It's a beautiful drive on the motorbike, all palm groves and rice paddies. When we arrived, the tenth-century temple we were seeking presented itself to us with little effort on our part, along with two unexpected others.

The first was Wat Long, a largely ruined but beautifully geometrical temple across the street from a high school and pretty much in someone's front yard. Estimates place it in the ninth or tenth centuries, but it's uncertain. The second was Wat Phra Borom That Chiaya, a modern temple and monastery complex. Today is Mothers' Day in Thailand, deemed thus and particularly important because it is the queen's birthday. The place was full of families praying and laying flowers, presumably in her honer (granted, this is only an outsider's conjecture).

The third temple was the one we came seeking, tenth-century Wat Keaw, the Greet Temple. And green it is. At the threshold, the temperature plummets and the air is dense with centuries of moisture and decay. The seated Buddhas, now wanting for heads and arms, are dressed in thick layers of green moss and cobwebs. It's and eerie and beautiful place.
On my new little tablet, photo uploading to blogger is exceptionally tedious, so click the link below to check out the pics from today.

Chiaya

llegada

Culture shock is a manic sort of affliction. It brings you to the ecstatic heights of enchantment and exhilaration, only to drop you, and no more than an unkind word
or a food-order failure, to the miserable lows of anger, frustration, and irrational nostalgia for the now-mythological ease and comfort of life "in the States."

Since Thailand is my third foreign country of residence, I fancied myself, while not immune to this nasty bug, at least reasonably hardened to it. I've already lived with nightmarish tropical insects in Argentina, eaten Spain's often unappetizing food, endured ridiculous heat in both places, and learned to put up with the total loss of anonymity that comes with being an obvious outsider.

This was of course, a rather stupid line of reasoning, as Argentine culture is based on Spanish culture, which is based on Rome, on which my own culture is largely based. It's all just Western. Thailand is not.

It's been a rough landing. Our house, while totally acceptable and lent to us rent-free by our school, is a step down from our lovely Spanish flat. The food has been a puzzle, I can't effectively communicate with anyone, and Surat itself is a big, dirty, chaotic town with little of Zafra's beauty or charm.

Luckily, our little motorbike is fast, and only seventy kilometers from Surat's grey edges lies Khanom, which in the last few weeks has become a much-needed refuge of peace and beauty. It's the Thailand you've seen in tourism ads and on posters in restaurants, a curved, white beach dotted with impossibly tall palm trees, tiki bars, and hardly a soul in sight. At night, the tiny organisms that float out their lives in the surf light up in response to movement, leaving a trail of stars behind your fingers. Beers are a dollar at a reggae-themed bar on the shore where a tattooed fire dancer offers a free square of sand to pitch our tent, and a short walk up the beach there's a place that sells expensive but almost accurate American food. Just knowing Khanom is there alleviates the aggravations of Surat. When Monday comes and I'm back at work, I feel recharged and able to enjoy those hundreds of tiny faces screaming "Hello Teeeachaaa Saweee."

Levi at Ao Tong Yee--The End of the Road Beach

The aptly named "Reggae Bar."

Our ride to paradise